


Permissive

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Flirting, Inline with canon, Kissing, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-13 07:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21490789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: "Takeda finds Ukai in the corridor just outside the shared bathrooms of the training camp." Takeda and Ukai take the opportunity of a moment away from the rest of the training camp to indulge in a little irresponsibility.
Relationships: Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin
Comments: 26
Kudos: 355
Collections: Fave Haikyuu fic





	Permissive

Takeda finds Ukai in the corridor just outside the shared bathrooms of the training camp.

He’s been looking for him for a while. Not that anyone would realize that’s what he’s doing, or so Takeda hopes; he’s had a good excuse for every turning he’s made and every room into which he’s glanced. But however ready his answer may be for the questions that no one bothers to ask, in the back of his head he knows perfectly well he’s not checking in on the stamina of the second-years, or making sure Hinata and Kageyama aren’t sneaking out for another round of training, or reassuring himself as to the stores of supplies for next morning’s breakfast. He’s looking for one thing, in his meandering path around the grounds of the training camp, and it’s only as he rounds a corner to find a tall man toweling his bleached-blond hair dry that he feels the relief of success sag in his shoulders.

“Ukai-kun,” Takeda says, speaking clearly so Ukai will look up and see the smile he’s giving the other. Takeda comes forward with more haste than he strictly intended to; his feet seem to urge him to a jog in spite of himself to hurry over the gap between himself and where Ukai is slowing to a halt in the middle of the corridor. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Yeah?” Ukai pushes the towel back from his hair to drape heavy around his shoulders. His hair is damp from his bath, the bleached-out yellow darkened to gold by the wet; it draws Takeda’s gaze, pulls his attention to the ends of the locks curling behind Ukai’s ear and brushing at the back of his neck, where the collar of his t-shirt is covered by the towel. Takeda’s still staring when Ukai lifts a hand to run his fingers through the locks and startles him back into the present. “What’d you need me for, sensei?”

Takeda’s cheeks warm before he can think to compose his expression. “Oh,” he says, and blinks, and smiles, and shakes his head. “Nothing terribly important.”

Ukai’s eyebrow lifts as he tips his head to the side to underscore the expression. “No?” he says. He reaches up to grip one hand around either end of the towel over his shoulders as he takes a step forward across the barely-decent gap Takeda left between them in his precipitous advance. “You sure about that?”

Takeda shakes his head, as if he’s rejecting the question in Ukai’s expression and the advance of his feet, but his own feet stay fixed where they are, even as his chin lifts to keep his gaze holding Ukai’s as the other draws closer to him. “It wasn’t about the team or anything like that.”

“So it’s not important?” Ukai wants to know. “I can think of plenty of things that are more important than the team.”

Takeda tips his head to the side as he looks up at Ukai. “Really?”

Ukai’s forehead creases in thought before he cocks his head to the side and gives in to a shrug. “Well, one thing, for sure.” He casts his gaze sideways from under the shadow of his lashes as he considers Takeda. “Why don’t you tell me what it was you needed me for?”

Takeda clears his throat. “I wouldn’t say  _ need_, exactly.” He brings his hands together in front of him so he can interlace his fingers with careful focus. “It’s more a matter of want, I’d say.”

“Ah,” Ukai says. “Sure.” His grip on one end of the towel around his neck slides loose; his hand drops down to his side for a moment before his fingers lift to skim the bottom edge of Takeda’s polo shirt. “What was it you wanted me for, then, sensei?”

Takeda gusts an exhale without lifting his head. “You know you don’t need to call me that when we’re alone.” His gaze slides up the front of Ukai’s t-shirt to find the dark of the other’s gaze still weighting steady against him. Takeda’s skin prickles with electricity, his cheeks color with the start of a flush, but he doesn’t duck his head to look away.

Ukai’s lashes dip. Takeda can hear the sound of his exhale. “This alone enough for you?”

Takeda shrugs. “As alone as we’ve been all week,” he says, not without accuracy. He unfolds his fingers from their grip on each other and reaches out to curl his hold around the hem of Ukai’s t-shirt in a deliberate imitation of the barely-there contact of Ukai’s thumb sliding across the edge of his own. “It seems to me we ought to make the most of the opportunity.”

Ukai groans in the back of his throat as Takeda lifts his other hand to brush against the back of the other’s neck and steady himself as he comes up onto his toes. “Sensei,” he growls, turning the honorific into something low and raw with heat as it rattles at the back of his throat. “You know you’re a tease?”

“A tease?” Takeda repeats. “I’m not trying to tease you, Ukai-kun.” He lets his hand draw up along the weight of the towel draped around Ukai’s neck until his fingertips are pressing the damp of Ukai’s loose hair against the back of his head. “I’m just suggesting that we take advantage of the moment.” He tips his head to the side as he looks up through his lashes at Ukai watching him. “Do you still want to call me sensei?”

Ukai huffs a laugh. “I could call you a lot more than that,” he says. His hand slides across the line of Takeda’s shirt before determination presses his palm flat to the other’s back. “Ittetsu.”

Takeda smiles up at him. “I’m always glad to listen.” He tips his head to the side, angling his chin into a tilt of possibility, and he doesn’t even have to urge against the gentle hold he has at Ukai’s hair for the other to duck forward and fit his lips to Takeda’s. For a moment the contact is soft, warm with gentle affection; then Takeda presses his hand up higher into Ukai’s hair, and arches in to urge the touch at his back tighter against him, and when Ukai groans against his mouth Takeda is parting his lips to draw Ukai deeper into the kiss. Ukai lifts a hand to tangle in Takeda’s hair and brace the other steady, and Takeda rises up onto the toes of his shoes so he can wind his free arm up and around Ukai’s shoulders to hold them against each other.

He loses track of time somewhat, after that. Ukai’s hold on him is unflinching, however much he grumbled about the limitations of their present circumstances, and there is a satisfaction just to having his arms around Ukai’s shoulders and pressing himself close against the thin fabric of the other’s t-shirt. Takeda has a hand wound into the shower-damp of Ukai’s hair, and the other sliding in to dip inside the collar of the other’s shirt as Ukai groans a sound against his mouth and tightens his fingers to a fist at the back of Takeda’s shirt, when there’s a shout from the next corridor down. It’s some distance away, loud more for its echo than out of proximity, but it’s still enough to pull Takeda back with a gasp. Ukai lifts his head to look, moving with the anxious haste of a guilty conscience, and Takeda finds himself craning his head to glance back too, although he is hardly likely to see anything more than Ukai can. They stay like that for a minute, tangled together past any expectation of plausible deniability while they wait out the possibility of discovery; then Ukai’s shoulders loosen on tension, and Takeda heaves a sigh of relief into the renewed quiet around them.

“It was the team sleeping in the next rooms over,” he says as he returns his attention to Ukai. “They won’t think to come down this way.”

“Yeah,” Ukai says, but he’s not moving back in to resume where they broke off. “You still ought to go and check on them, shouldn’t you?”

Takeda grimaces apology. “I should.”

Ukai shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he says, and draws a deep breath before huffing it out. “We should be waiting until we’re back from the camp, anyway.”

“I know,” Takeda admits. “We should. We  _ will_.” He takes a breath and shakes his head to steady himself. “We can last another few days, at least. We’re adults, after all.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ukai grumbles. “With you around sometimes I feel no better than the high schoolers.”

Takeda smiles at him. “Well. We should make the attempt to behave appropriately, anyway.” He lifts his hand from the tangle he’s made of Ukai’s hair so he can smooth it back to a disarray more appropriate to an evening shower than a late-night makeout session. “It’s important to keep up appearances.”

Ukai sighs hugely. “Yeah,” he says, and loosens his hold at the back of Takeda’s shirt.

Takeda unwinds his arms from around Ukai’s neck so he can draw back by a step and pull his hair and clothes back into order; Ukai just ducks his head to ruffle a hand through his hair and undo whatever tidiness Takeda’s fingers smoothed there. Finally Takeda straightens his glasses and lifts his head to smile at Ukai. “How do I look?”

Ukai gives Takeda a long, lingering sideways glance before he raises an eyebrow in answer. “You  _ know_, sensei.”

Takeda huffs into a smile. “Thank you.” He looks back over his shoulder and sighs. “I’d better go check in on our teams.”

“Yeah,” Ukai says, and lifts a hand to wave Takeda off. “Go be a responsible adult.”

Takeda laughs and takes a step back. “I will,” he promises. He turns to begin moving down the hallway, though he looks back immediately to see Ukai still standing watching him. Takeda smiles and lifts a hand into a wave. “Goodnight, Ukai-kun.”

Ukai’s lashes flutter, his hand tightens where he’s returned his grip to the towel around his neck. Takeda is already several steps away from him but he still stops as Ukai comes forward and turns back around to face the other’s approach. Ukai lifts both hands to cradle Takeda’s head, his fingers sliding to brace against the other’s hair, and Takeda lifts his chin and shuts his eyes as Ukai ducks to kiss him again. This really is only for a moment of time, as far as Takeda can tell, but the force of Ukai’s mouth against his is still enough to leave him heavy-lidded and tingling with heat as Ukai lets him go and steps back.

“Yeah,” he says, sounding at least as breathless as Takeda feels. “Night, sensei.” His hand draws up, his fingers slide to ruffle through Takeda’s hair, and then he’s turning away to retreat down the hallway before Takeda can think better of his noble intentions. Takeda watches him go, one hand half-raised towards his lips and his gaze clinging to the shift of Ukai’s shoulders underneath the thin of his t-shirt, before he flushes, and covers his mouth with his hand, and turns to head back down the corridor with his thoughts all lingering in his wake instead of guiding his aimless footsteps.


End file.
